


A Challenge Met

by khilana



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Romance, Smut, Zutara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 01:23:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5228534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khilana/pseuds/khilana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zuko leaves behind an angry Katara before a battle, leading to a heated reunion between the two. Smut. One-shot. Post-series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Challenge Met

“What do you mean I can’t go?”

“I mean you’re staying here and not leaving the palace.”

“Zuko—Zuko! Don’t walk away from me!” she huffed as she struggled to keep up with him in her gown. “You _need_ me there. If I’m there—”

“If you’re there I’ll be too worried about you to be able to do my job. It will only hold me back.”

“ _Hold you back_? You think that _I_ hold you back? I’m not asking you to babysit me!”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he said, finally rearing back to look at her.

“You’re always saying that you see me as an equal so treat me like one! You know I’m more than capable of taking care of myself out there.”

“I know you are, but I’m not risking your safety to prove that,” he finished before turning to walk away again.

Immediately she let out a frustrated shout, her hands grasping at the air in front of her. “You can’t just dismiss me like that!” This time he turned around so fast she almost ran into his chest.

“I can do whatever I want. You have power because I _let you_ have power. You get to talk to me this way because I _let you_ talk to me this way. And you’re going to stay here because I’m _ordering_ you to stay here—not asking. Do you understand me?”

Those last few words felt like a slap to the face. Her face hardened, eyes wide with the tears she wanted to make him spill. “You’re a bastard,” she uttered, her voice low but with a thread of steel.

“If that's what it takes to keep you here, then yes,” he said, seemingly unfazed.

This time she was the one to walk away. She wanted to scream and throttle him and _hurt_ him because he was hurting her and she wanted to prove him wrong so so so bad because he deserved it and she would leave the palace on her own and follow after him just to shove it in his face that no, he did _not_ tell her what to do and he would never be able to tell her what to do and—

She stopped, hearing the stomping sound of multiple footsteps behind her. She looked behind her and found four Fire Nation guards coming to a stop just as she did. She looked to the end of the hall, finding Zuko still staring at her with his eyebrow raised.

“ _Four_?” she nearly shrieked, her shrill voice causing one of the guards to noticeably wince. She could feel the rage boiling in her blood. He may have been the fire bender but it was her skin that now burned beneath the surface.

“Don’t think that I trust you enough to listen to orders, even if they are from your lord.” He gave her a pointed look before directing his attention to the guards and stated a simple “Don’t disappoint me,” before walking away for good.

* * *

She didn’t say goodbye to him. She wouldn’t. While the procession stood outside of the palace, wishing him and his generals a victory against the rebels, words of encouragement spilling from their lips, smiles plastered on their faces as they spoke of the impending victory, she stood there silently, brooding. She wanted to stay inside the palace—ironic that she wanted to do the one thing she hated him for making her do—because if he was going to just leave her here she wasn’t going to wish him off. She wasn’t going to compromise herself more than he had already made her. But Lady Ursa had urged her, telling Katara to come for her if not for her idiot son. When he came to face her she glowered and let her malice show. He seemed unperturbed by this—a fact that only infuriated her further. She wanted to throw him off—she wanted him to feel the storm that was raging inside her because it wasn’t fair that she was so mad and so insulted while he looked so calm and collected and like he was just going on a vacation instead of going to rebel strongholds where people would not hesitate to kill him.

“What? No sweet nothings for me?” he asked, his tone just as lighthearted as the rest of his demeanor.

She glared at him for a moment longer before stating, “Don’t die. I’m not done being pissed at you, yet.” Upon hearing that he smiled—a smile so genuine that anyone watching would never have guessed at the vindictive words their Fire Lady chose to say farewell to her husband with.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured coming stepping closer to her.

“I’m not your girl—!” she exclaimed automatically, her eyebrows furrowing. She didn’t get a second to breathe before he had grabbed the back of her head and pressed his lips to hers. She made a noise halfway between a protest and a whimper—a sound he greedily swallowed in—before reflexively trying to push him away, but he only served to wrap his arm around her waist holding her more tightly against him, wanting her there for just another moment longer. She was still mad at him, she had been for a while and she knew she would be for even longer, but she wanted to make him suffer the way she was. She wanted to make him think of her while he was gone and berate himself for leaving her and make him miss her. So she responded to the kiss, pulling at his hair and trying to take control. She bit his lower lip, using his sudden gasp for air as an opportunity to push her tongue inside his mouth and massage his tongue slowly and reverently before sucking on it slightly. She took joy in the low groan he let out when she pressed herself further into him, feeling him begin to harden as he tried to crush her closer to him. She knew he had forgotten about all the people around them—all the nobles, generals, soldiers, and servants who by now were no doubt staring at their rather graphic display. She was proud of herself, knowing she had that power over him. She bit his lip one more time before finally pushing him away. He looked dazed coming out of the kiss. Her glare returned to its former level of severity as he stared at her in a moment of confusion before a look of understanding seemed to come upon him. He adjusted his rumpled clothing and stared at her a moment longer before nodding his head at her and turning to leave with the rest of his soldiers. He mounted his Komodo Rhino, looked back at his family once more, and rode off.

* * *

 

That evening Katara retired to her rooms early. She told Lady Ursa and Uncle Iroh that the emotions from the day had exhausted her—an exaggeration if not a lie—and they left her without protest. Upon entering she felt her anger rise up again. Her rooms weren’t even really hers. They were the Fire Lord’s chambers, renovated slightly to accommodate the Fire Lady as well. After their marriage Zuko had stated his desire to have her stay with him in his chambers—to make it _theirs_. The one time she had gone to sleep in the Fire Lady’s chambers had been after a fight with Zuko. She had woken up not long after falling asleep to the feeling of the bed shifting and heat encompassing her.

“Did you think I wouldn’t follow you?” he asked, pulling her body flush against him. She groaned, telling him to fuck off if he wanted to keep all his body parts. He grunted a response and kissed her before she could say anything else. She bit him, telling him that sex didn’t fix fights. “It doesn’t,” he responded as he moved his mouth down to her neck, “but it stops you from yelling at me long enough so that we can make up.” She was going to retort back, give him a reason to think twice before being so sure of himself, but his mouth was on her breast, biting her nipple through the silk of her chemise and she found herself being pushed further into the bed, feeling like she would suffocate between the sheets and Zuko on top of her. His hands were scorching as they slid to cup her heat through her panties, giving her a firm squeeze before rubbing circles around her nub through the lace.

He kept her up throughout the night, waking her up every time she dozed off to take her again to remind her she couldn’t get away from him even in slumber. By the time he was done with her, her throat was sore from crying out and the area between her legs felt raw but she was too sated and too exhausted to care. The next morning she found herself waking up in the bed she usually slept in with Zuko and wondered when he had carried her back to their chambers. As she passed by the Fire Lady’s chambers on her way to breakfast that morning she noticed a new chain and lock on the entrance doors, barring anyone’s entry. _That asshole_.

Katara shook herself out of her thoughts. She had to ignore how everything in their room—because it truly was _their_ room—reminded her of him. She hated that when she went to the restroom she found his hair brush next to hers—something the imbecile forgot to take with him apparently—, that when she went to the closet to grab a change of clothes his garments were perfectly parallel to hers as if they were mocking her, that when she went towards the bed she could still smell him on the silk sheets and all over again she was mad at him for just leaving her behind like this.

No matter. She was going to change that. She had ditched her entourage of guards outside of her chamber doors, flustering them with a remark on how their watch need not be so thorough. She was happy to see them quick to wish her a goodnight, before leaving only two to stand watch outside of her room. That was okay though; Katara had expected the guards to stand watch that night. Zuko would be a fool if he didn’t assign them.

Katara quickly changed out of her fine silks for her black turtleneck and leggings. She took the gold ornaments out of her hair and tied her locks into a bun so it wouldn’t get in the way on her journey. She took a small pack, filled with a change of clothes and enough food to last her a few days before she would find Zuko and his men. She would find him and once she got to him he wouldn’t just send her back—the journey to him will have been dangerous enough that he would never risk sending her home alone. And then when the battle raged on she would be there to help as a master waterbender, as Fire Lady, and as a warrior. And, if Spirits forbid, anyone so much as touched Zuko, she would be there to save him and heal him. And then she would be there to rub it in his face that he did need her there and he was utterly stupid for thinking that he didn’t.

Coming out of her train of thoughts, she strapped her pack around her back and lifted the glass on the window. She had just climbed out of the windowsill and was going to use the water from one of her skins to build herself a bridge to glide to the ground before she heard a shout from down below.

“Your majesty?” she heard from beneath her. Katara squinted looking for the source of the voice in the darkness. “Your majesty, we know you’re there. The Fire Lord has directed us to ensure you don’t escape. We have been directed to use force if necessary.”

Katara stared, flabbergasted, her mouth closing and opening as she comprehended the guard’s words. She could see eight guards beneath her on the ground hidden by the darkness. The bastard had assigned guards outside the windows as well? How could he still be so thoroughly in control when he wasn’t even _there_ for Spirit’s sake?

Katara felt heat rise in her face, a combination of rage and humiliation seeping on her.

“Goodnight,” she shouted curtly, unable to say more. She climbed back into her room and slammed the window shut before tearing off her clothes—clothes which just felt ridiculous now in the face of her embarrassment. She just knew that Zuko would get a report of her attempted escape, that he would pride himself on foreseeing just how she would go about doing so, and in the end stopping her.

* * *

 

He was coming back that day. A messenger had given word yesterday that the Fire Lord and his men were returning victorious from defeating one of the last strongholds of Ozai supporters, arriving back as soon as the following morning. She had asked the messenger of Zuko’s health—still worried about him even if he did piss her off—, to which he enthusiastically replied that the Fire Lord was unharmed and his men suffered few casualties. Upon hearing this, Katara out herself at ease and set into action. She would make sure she was too busy to receive him, making appointments herself if she had to.

She knew the instant he had arrived. It was late morning and she was having tea with the wives of noblemen when a servant approached her to alert her of his arrival. She asked the servant again of his majesty’s physical bearings, making sure that the messenger had been right in saying that the Fire Lord was truly unharmed. The servant informed her that his assessment appeared correct and that his majesty seemed rather excited to be home. Katara raised her eyebrow at this, saying nothing and dismissing the servant.

She wouldn’t go to him. She wouldn’t let him know how much she missed him and how she had dreamt of him almost every night since he had left. She had been anxious at his departure and the following weeks of his absence only made her fret even more. But now that she was knew that he was okay—no, better thank okay according to the servant’s report—she allowed herself to be angry at him again. He had left her here like a useless and incapable child and then allowed her to worry herself to death by not once sending word of his or his men’s conditions during the battle. The anger in her that had taken the backseat to concern was now at the forefront of her mind, brewing inside as she listened to the idle gossip of the noblewomen in front of her.

It was only twenty minutes later when she had another servant approach her place at the table, informing her that the Fire Lord desired her presence in his office.

“Please inform the his majesty that I’m currently busy. I’ll see him when I have time,” Katara responded dismissively before turning back to the table.

The servant seemed to hesitate and stayed at her side a moment longer before leaning down again to state, “Your majesty, I apologize, but the Fire Lord has _summoned_ you to his office.”

At this, Katara narrowed her eyes. So now he was just ordering her again? “I see,” she replied. Turning back to the table, Katara raised her voice. “It seems that there is a pressing matter that I must attend to. If you all will excuse me, I must cut this gathering short.”

She left the table without waiting for the words of the noblewomen, her anger rising once again at Zuko. She advanced down the halls with her anger propelling her, only slowing down once she was before the door to his office. She took a deep breath. She would control herself. Or at least try to, anyways.

She opened the door, revealing darkness despite the early time of day. Closing the door behind her, it wasn’t until she stood in front of his desk that she was able to make out his large form sitting in his chair.

“Zuko,” she stated sternly as she crossed her arms.

He was silent for a while and it unnerved her. In the dark she couldn’t make out his facial expressions and didn’t know what he was thinking or how to approach him. She fell back on her anger, not really caring about how he might have wanted her to approach him. He was quiet for a few more heavy moments before finally stating, “You weren’t there to receive me when I arrived.”

“I was busy,” she said simply. She couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. He didn’t sound angry or stern but he didn’t sound as lighthearted as he did upon his departure. She wanted to open the curtains and let light into the room so she could see his face and know what he was thinking because this darkness and his prolonged silences left her unsure and _she_ was the one who was supposed to have the power right now, not him.

“Katara.” The way he said her name was so serious, so harsh, it sounded like a reprimand on his tongue.

“What?” she asked rather testily. Her nerves were on edge and she was feeling uncomfortable with how uncertain this all felt. While she had had time to stew in her anger and think about their first encounter when he got back, he, too, apparently had thought about it, as well, and made his own plans.

“I know about your attempted escape,” he stated as rose out of his chair, alarming her slightly as he moved to the side of the desk she was on.

“Then you know it failed.” That was still a sore spot for her. She had been unable to look any of the guards in the eye for days afterwards out of sheer embarrassment.

“Yes, I know that.” He stepped closer to her and she forced herself not to step back. With him so close to her she could now see that on his face he wore a smile small—a smile that did nothing to put her at ease. He reached a hand up to touch one of her crossed arms before he caught sight of a flash of skin on her back. Turning her forward and stepping closely behind her he allowed his gaze to rake over her naked back, from her neck to the dimples above her ass—an ass that was so tightly compacted by the fabric of her dress that he almost doubted she wore underwear. This dress, he decided, which was so modest in the front yet so enticing in the back, was reason enough to give the palace seamstress a raise. “Put your hands on the desk,” he ordered, his gruff voice startling her.

“Zuko—” she started, her voice high as she turned her head over her shoulder.

“Did I stutter?” he asked in that same commanding tone. She was starting to understand what Zuko’s councilmen felt like when they left meetings looking frazzled.

“No.” Her voice lacked conviction and it sounded more like a question, even to herself. She felt so caught off guard and his lack of hesitation in this moment only put her more on edge.

“Then put your hands on the desk. Now.”

Quickly she placed her palms flat against the desk. She was so exposed to him, her back entirely open to his view, her ass closer to him than any other part of her body. She gasped when she felt one of his hot hands press into the small of her back, forcing her out of her hunched position and arching her back. He kept his hand there and she pressed into its warmth, missing his touch despite herself. She heard him shuffle closer and felt him press his lips to the crook of her neck, his hot puffs of breath making her shiver slightly.

“I missed you,” he murmured, his lips never quite leaving her skin. His hand was rubbing a circle on the small of her back as his lips moved down her shoulder, at once giving chaste kisses but suddenly open-mouthed with his tongue tasting her skin.

“That's your own fault,” she tried to make her voice as firm as possible. She was still mad, she told herself.

He grunted in response, allowing one of his hands to run up the length of her back before she felt it at the front of her throat, turning her face back towards him so he could kiss her. She strained to keep herself upright with her hands on the desk as he sucked insistently on her lower lip before biting it and going on to massage her tongue with his.

He turned her around quickly so her front was against his before he pushed her back against the desk, tugging her dress off her shoulders before pulling it all the way off her. Katara gasped at the sudden feeling of cold air hitting her body, her nipples tightening against it. She brought her hands up to cover herself before he landed on her, kissing her hard while he pulled her hands away from her chest. He cupped her breasts, firmly squeezing them before brushing his thumbs roughly against her nipples.

Katara whimpered, starting to undo his robe before strong hands pinned her wrists to the table, placating her.

“You’re still in trouble for not obeying my orders,” he murmured, his voice gruff as he kissed his way down the valley between her breasts to the skin just above her underwear.

“ _I’m_ in trouble?” At this Katara brought her head up to look down at where he was, her flaring anger slightly bringing her out of her lust induced haze.

“Yes,” he affirmed, holding her by her hips and pulling her towards him so her ass rested just on the edge of the desk in front of him, “ _you’re_ in trouble.”

“You—you, asshole. You’re the one who gave bad orders.” She started to try to lift her legs up, away from where he had placed them beside his head on her shoulders, but his hands held her thighs in place and firm nip to her inner thigh stopped her from continuing her struggles.

“My orders were meant to keep you safe and my mission successful. Both of which occurred splendidly, no thanks to your efforts.”

She was going to respond, say something awful to him just to make him shut up for once, but then he licked her right at the junction of where her thigh met her crotch and she hissed when she felt him bite her there a little too firmly to be called gentle. He moved his face then, his nose brushing across her panties as he stopped at her center. She felt more than heard him inhale, his face pressed against her most intimate area, his hot breath making her wetter and she knew—she _just knew_ —that he could feel how damp her panties were and she would have felt ashamed but her legs were shaking and all she wanted was for him to touch her like he knew she wanted him to.

She whimpered when she felt the loss of his heat against her, but he was tearing the lace around her hips off and then he was back and his tongue was hot as he licked up her center, his lips roughly brushing against her and she suddenly realized that he hadn’t shaved that morning because she could feel the stubble on his face rub harshly against her most sensitive flesh, but she didn’t care because it all still felt so good.

She cried out when she felt him start to thrust his tongue inside her, slowly and languorously tasting her and feeling the smooth muscles inside her. His nose was pressing against her clit and she pushed herself closer to him, not wanting him to stop.

But then all too soon he was raising his head a little, his tongue making heated circles around her nub while he thrust two fingers inside her. His fingers immediately sought out that spot on her upper walls and his fingers were fast and hard as they scissored her and—oh, _oh_ , he was going to try to make her do _that_. She tried to warn him, tried to tell him to move away before it happened, but then his other hand was on her breast and squeezing it and she felt like she couldn’t even breathe let alone tell him to stop. She cried out when she came and clenched her legs as she felt her juices come out of her but Zuko didn’t move away from his spot, instead just groaning against her clit as she rode out her orgasm.

Trying desperately to focus on breathing, Katara pushed his fingers and face away from her over-sensitive flesh. She placed her hands over her face, too embarrassed to look at Zuko and see her juices on his face or the small puddle she left on the ground. She vaguely heard the rustle of clothing as Zuko undressed and felt him tugging her arms away from her face.

The kiss he gave her was languid and unhurried, soothing and reassuring. She moaned when she felt his hands massaging her hips and gasped when he unexpectedly turned her over on the desk, the cold wood contrasting against Zuko’s heat at her back.

His hands were roaming her back again, sliding down until they were kneading her ass and she felt his length brush across her folds. He leaned over her back, pressing a gentle kiss to the shell of her ear as he pressed the tip of his cock against her clit, her hips pushing back into him. He reached a hand under her, going between her thighs, as he swiftly thrust into her.

He wasn’t slow and he wasn’t gentle, allowing for little build up as he pounded into her. One of his hands was gripping her hip so hard she was sure she’d find bruises tomorrow, while his other hand pressed heated and frantic circles into her nub. It was too soon after her last orgasm and she was still so sensitive that it wasn’t long before she was clenching around him again, tears coming out of the corners of her eyes because it was all too much for her and it had been so long since they were together like this and she had missed him even if she sometimes hated him. He groaned against her neck at the feeling of her walls tightening around him, his thrusts becoming less controlled and jerkier until he finally bit the skin of her shoulder to muffle his groan as he came inside her. She cried out at the feeling of his cum pouring inside her, its heat almost scathing her.

They stayed like that for a few moments, Zuko hunched over her with his face pressed against her back as he tried to regulate his breathing. She moaned at the feeling of him pulling out before he pulled her with him to the sofa at the side of the room, lying down and tugging her on top of him.

She didn’t say anything to break the silence as he brought his fingers up to brush the skin on her shoulder, his other hand resting on her back and keeping her to him. It wasn’t until he started trying to nuzzle her face that she gave him a pointed look.

“That doesn’t mean you’re forgiven, you know,” she said, her voice sounding scratchier than when she had first entered the room.

“I know,” he said casually as he tightened his grip on her. “It just means that neither of us has the energy to fight more while I try to gain your forgiveness.”

She rolled her eyes as she saw him smile and let him nuzzle and kiss her face some more as he showed her just how he would begin his path to redemption.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I have ideas for other situations to put Zuko and Katara in so that they inevitably have sex but I guess I'll publish them depending on the feedback this one gets? Let me know your thoughts!


End file.
